


Scenario 3

by rideswraptors



Series: Kastle Scenarios [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, see first part for warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 21:04:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rideswraptors/pseuds/rideswraptors
Summary: “It safe for you to be here?” His responding look was unimpressed and she blushed. The implication being that he wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t. “Right. Russo?”





	Scenario 3

Russo was still alive. Barely, but he’d be back. Homeland wouldn’t be able to keep him locked up forever. Frank, however, was a free man. No more cops hunting him. No more CIA coming for him. No more spooks showing up. Unless you counted Lieberman. These days, Frank definitely was. So that’s why he went there first. Theirs was unfinished business. And when Sarah asked him to stay for dinner, he wasn’t about to say no. 

 

They were good together, the Liebermans. They fit. Balanced each other out. Just like his family had once upon a time. Truthfully, anymore, his life before felt like a fairy tale. He knew, instinctively, that everything before Rawlins destroying his life was more than his current life could ever be. But it was gone. Gone, and he had to make what he could of what he had left to him. 

 

He’d been given more than he ever could have dreamed of. Friends who cared about him. A woman who wanted him. 

 

Because Karen did want him. Frank wasn’t stupid enough to doubt that. He felt it with every breath, every pulse of her body while they were in that elevator together. She would never have let him go if there was another option. She’d done what she had to, not what she wanted. If there was another way, Frank would have stayed in that elevator with her, clutched her tight and kept her with him. 

 

While they were cleaning up, David was the one to push the subject.

 

“You called her yet?” 

 

“No.” Frank didn’t bother pretending he didn’t know the “her” David was referring to. For Frank, there was only one “her.”

 

“Why not?” 

 

“Just...I’ve got time now. I’m sure she needs some time to... recover.”

 

“And you honestly believe that,” Lieberman said slowly. “So you haven’t even talked to her.”

 

“Not since...no. I haven’t.” 

 

“Fucking...Frank, I don’t fucking get you, man. You want justice. You get it. You want to keep Karen safe. You do that. Now you’ve got the chance to...I don’t know, find some happiness? And you stomp all over it?” 

 

“I am not--” 

 

“So why come here? Why not go find her?” 

 

“She deserves better than me.” 

 

“I knew you were an egotistical nightmare, but fuck, man, c’mon.” He shrugged. “You asked me once what I would do if it was Sarah. What the fuck did I do? What do you think I would do right now?” 

 

Frank nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I know you’re right. I just--”

 

“You just? You’re just standing here with your thumb up your ass talking to me about nothing.” 

 

Frank threw a towel at him.

 

“ _ Fine _ . I will go see her.  _ Tomorrow _ . M’not showing up in the middle of the night like a goon.”

 

David frowned. “Is that not your whole--” he gestured vaguely in Frank’s direction, “schtick?” 

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Love you too, Petey.” 

 

*

 

He did what he said he would. Went to see her. Posted up at the building across the street from the  _ Bulletin _ around noon, saw that she was going to lunch with co-workers and waited. She looked good, too. Wearing a damn skirt and those heels she didn’t need to be level with him. Had her hair up in a knot, and it looked like a halo when the sun hit her the right way. He chuckled to himself. Karen Page was no goddamn angel, she just tried really hard. Harder than most people, anyway. He watched her laugh and talk with people, and to the untrained eye, it would seem normal. To anyone unfocused, she’d look calm and relaxed. 

 

But there was a tension in her shoulders, in the way she carried herself. Every so often, she shot a glance in a random direction. Good girl. Knew she was being watched. Frank saw one last pointed look over her shoulder, and then she was casually ushering her colleagues into the building, laughing the whole time. 

 

That was all right. He could wait.  

 

*

 

Karen had felt off all day. Well, she’d felt off for a few days now. After being interviewed a dozen times and getting patched up at the hospital, she’d been too anxious and riled up to sleep. It had thrown her out of whack. So now she was walking around jittery and looking over her shoulder. Hoping against hope. 

 

She’d known someone was watching her when she and the others got back from lunch. They’d all been a little too simpering, too involved. Everyone wanted to make sure she was “all right.” The truth was that they wanted to hear the story. They wanted to know how she’d survived the Punisher. Again. With a hollow laugh, she’d informed them:

 

“If I ever figure that out, I’ll let you know.” 

 

If nothing else, Foggy had taught her to be charming until people stopped looking. But people were around her all day. Even wanted to get drinks after work. They kept with her even in the lobby and on the sidewalk outside, begging and cajoling. 

 

That’s when the hairs on her neck stood up and a shiver shot down her spine.  _ Watched _ , she thought,  _ I’m being watched _ . She fluttered her eyes closed, trying to shake off the feeling. 

 

“Guys, I’m not really--” 

 

She tossed a look over her should, habit at this point, and there he was. Frank Castle in normal civilian clothes, no hat obscuring his face, no bulky hoodie hiding him in plain sight. And he was watching her in daylight.  

 

“Sorry,” she said evenly, “I can’t tonight. I’m seeing an old friend.” She kept her eyes locked on Frank even as the group dispersed, telling her they’d see her bright and early Saturday morning. Karen didn’t have the heart to tell them. 

 

When she thought it was clear, she went to him, eyes roving over his form to make sure he was real. Unscathed. Her eyes dropped to his arm and then up to the side of his head. Patched up and cleaned, for better or worse. His eyes stayed with her, intense and seeking as she moved. 

 

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat.

 

“You following me now?” 

 

He snorted and shook his head. 

 

“Can’t follow somebody who doesn’t move.” 

 

She smiled at that, looking away for the first time. He was too intense. Too real in front of her. 

 

“It safe for you to be here?” His responding look was unimpressed and she blushed. The implication being that he wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t. “Right. Russo?”

 

“Incapacitated.”

 

“Rawlins?”

 

“Dead.”

 

“Good.” 

 

He lifted his brows at her, a slight smirk on his lips. Karen couldn’t really take it anymore; she had an ache in her chest that needed to be appeased. Before she could register what she was doing, she was wrapping Frank into a hug, arms tight around his neck, nose pressed into his hair. His arms caught her, kept her close, and she felt his chin hook over her shoulder, hands splayed across her back. She shut her eyes against it. It was the therapy she’d needed over the past few days, the reassurance she’d wanted. She put her lips to his skin. 

 

“Where have you been?” she demanded quietly. 

 

“Homeland. Lieberman’s.” 

 

She pulled back with a nod and lifted one hand to the side of his head. Fingers touching around the wound. It was healing at least. He leaned into her touch. 

 

“You got somewhere to be?” she asked, voice gentling. He shook his head and she hummed. Then she slid her arm through his, and started walking home. 

 

They were silent and pressed up close. Frank kept her from getting jostled, shoved his shoulder ahead to clear a path for her. Karen had forgotten how warm he was, practically radiating heat, how solid he was. Yeah, she’d seen him in full gear, and he cut a pretty terrifying picture, but leaning on that strength was a different experience entirely. 

 

He stayed close even when they got to her building, shielding her back from the street. They hung back and snapped back together in the elevator, standing too close, breathing the same air. Frank’s eyes were heavy on her, less pained than they’d been in the last elevator. At least this time he wasn’t climbing out the emergency hatch. No more running. Karen didn’t know a tear had slipped from her eye until he moved forward to wipe it away, hand lingering on her face. She covered it with her own, pressed a kiss to his palm. 

 

They were interrupted by the doors opening. A couple of her neighbors pushed in, forcing them out. A teenager knocked into Karen and Frank pushed him back with a snarl on his lip. Karen just sighed and pulled him down the hall by the hand. 

 

“Rude, fucking--”

 

“Just a kid, Frank.”

 

He grumbled something she couldn’t make out while she unlocked her door. A couple of deadbolts later, she was letting him in and locking the door up tight behind him. Idly, she wondered if it was to keep people out or keep Frank Castle in.

 

She cleared her throat and tucked her chin, suddenly nervous. “Drink?” she asked, walking to the kitchen, not looking at him now. It was an echo of their old back and forth. But apparently, Frank wasn’t having it. He snagged her hand and pulled her back to him, eyes darting across her face. She found both questions and answers there. 

 

“No, Karen,” he answered, his voice lower than usual, “I don’t want a drink.” 

 

Karen wasn’t sure who moved first. Wasn’t sure if he initiated or if she did or if they met halfway. It didn’t seem to matter much when their lips met, soft but sure, in a dry glide. Karen couldn’t stop the gasp when he slid his tongue alongside hers, guided her hands up to his shoulders. All Karen could do was hold onto him, fingers gripping his jacket tight, letting herself be kissed and doted on. He was being so gentle with her, even and steady, but she felt the tension underneath. Felt that strength. It was coiled up so tight, and there was only one place for it to go. Karen was more than happy to oblige. 

 

She pushed to get his jacket off, pulled him back by the sleeves of his shirt, and slid her hands down his chest to ruck it up. Their mouths separated for the brief time it took to get his shirt off, and then his hands were unbuttoning her blouse, slipping fingers into the waistband of her skirt. Karen pressed up against him teasingly, only to draw back, putting some distance between them, to kick off her heels and wriggle out of her skirt. She kept her eyes on him, lingering, as she crooked a finger at him and spun on her heel to walk to the bedroom. 

 

Didn’t even get to the door before he was plastered to her back, arms encircling her waist. His head nudged at hers to make room for his mouth on her neck, hands snuck down between her legs. She leaned back into him, head tipping back over his shoulder and covered his hands with her own, briefly pausing their progress to the bed. 

 

“Fuck,” he bit out, laving his tongue on her pulse point, “you smell good.” Karen hummed in response, biting her lip when his hand gripped her center. So close, but not enough. She sighed and spun in his arms, with a twist of her wrist, she was able to get her bra off. In typical man-fashion, his eyes went right down to her breasts, and his hands quickly followed. Karen pushed into it, moaning at the pressure. 

 

“Pants off,” she said, tugging at his waistband. 

 

Frank’s eyes lit up, dark and wide, and he angled his head to kiss her properly again. Karen intercepted his face with her hands, smiling into it while he shoved his pants down and stepped out of them. Once he had some momentum, he was bending to lift her from under her thighs, hands tight. Karen smiled and wrapped her legs around his waist, tilting her hips forward. She kissed his face and the corners of his mouth as he walked them to the bed. Frank eased them down together, belly to belly, kissed her deep and hard until she had to gasp for breath. 

 

“So goddamn beautiful,” Frank breathed out, kissing down her chest and belly, just to latch onto her breast. He lavished attention on both, his hand moving on her clit in time with his tongue. “S’really not fair.  _ At all _ ,” he growled. “Drive me fucking insane--” He thrust against her when her fingers dug into his hair and tugged to get him to kiss her again. 

 

“God, Frank, don’t stop,” she whined and clutched his hand between her thighs. Two fingers slid into her, twisting, as the heel of his palm rubbed her. Karen jerked her mouth away, cheeks blazing hot, to push against him, wanting more friction, more everything. She didn’t realize she was begging, begging him to stop fucking around and just _fuck her_ _already_. He chuckled, throaty and maddening, and she whined at him again. 

 

With other men, she might have bit her tongue off before begging like that. She’d never felt safe like this with anyone else. Never felt this out of control. Frank kept her perfectly safe, understood her, protected her without making her feel useless. She thought about how he’d talked her through disabling that bomb, how he’d shielded her during the blast, and her body just flew apart. Her muscles clenched around his hand and he whispered praise in her ear. Filthy sweet nothings that should have made her blush. 

 

Karen felt good and loose, but she wasn’t finished. They grappled with each other to get her in position, mouths meeting in a hot, messy scramble. When he thrust in, bottoming out in one glide, Karen ripped her mouth away to bite his shoulder. Her body fought to adjust to him, screaming out for appeasement. Frank pumped into her, hard and deliberate, rocking her body with each thrust. It was perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect. The only sounds in the room were their grunts and moaning, the slap of his skin against hers. Her bed creaked with every movement, and shit she had never been more turned on in her life, never more excited during sex. 

 

When her fingers dug into the grooves along Frank’s spine, he picked up the pace, grunting and panting as he moved inside her. Karen was babbling encouragement, still begging, and rising up against him. They rutted at a furious pace, losing sense and reason, maybe a little bit of time in the mix, until they crashed, one after the other, first him then her. He came inside her and she briefly thought about her IUD before dismissing the thought completely in favor of kissing Frank. His lips were sweet and heavy on hers, tugging and dragging so sensually that she was nearly dizzy from it. 

 

She whined when Frank tried to break their kiss and get off of her. It made her sound needy and clingy, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care if Frank thought that about her because it was true when it came to him. She’d been so worried about him, so devastated when she watched him climb out of that fucking elevator. Now that she had him close, he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. 

 

He smiled into her kiss, clamped both arms around her back and flipped them so he could rest more comfortably. Karen moved against him like a contented cat, nuzzling into his skin, pressing kisses to his chest, making patterns on his skin with her fingertips. 

 

It was his turn to whine. 

 

“Shit, woman, you’re gonna kill me.” 

 

“Good death for a soldier.” 

 

He snorted. “That’s Army.” 

 

Karen smiled against his skin, biting the curve of his pec for being a smartass.

 

“So what do they call Marines, then, Mr. Castle?” 

 

He played with her hair, picking up strands and twisting them between his fingers. 

 

“Warriors.” 

 

“Mmm,” she looked up at him, finding that he was watching her from under hooded eyes, “fits.” 

 

They lay there quietly for a long while, just soaking each other’s presence in, exploring with hands and mouths.  Karen just felt so comfortably warm, her mind in a lovely post-sex haze, that she didn’t want to move or think or even breathe too hard, afraid that she would wake up and he’d have vanished. The panic bubbled in her gut and rose up to claw her throat, so she tried to tamp it down. Not well enough, apparently, because he put a finger under her chin to tilt her head up to him. 

 

“You good?” 

 

“Mhmm,” she answered noncommittally, nodding to emphasize her weak point. She started drawing figure eights along his ribs. “Just thinking.” Frank made a noise, encouraging her to continue, and she could feel it vibrate right through her. She turned and kissed his clavicle, throat, and chin before lifting up on her forearms to hover over him.

 

“What happens now?” she asked, voice soft and shaking, even to her own ears. She hated how weak she sounded, but at this point, it couldn’t be helped. Not with the very real possibility of him leaving again, and not just her apartment this time. “Do you have to leave? Hide out somewhere?” 

 

He traced a thumb over her cheekbone. “Nah. No running. No hiding.” 

 

She licked her lips nervously, “No leaving?” 

 

He dropped his head to his shoulder, considering her. It didn’t look like he was ready to answer that question, at least not verbally. Instead, he shook his head, throat working harder than before. Karen wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but she was sure of him. So she kissed him, lips lush against hers. 

 

“And the Punisher?” she asked around their kiss. 

 

He slid his hands through her hair, sighing, “Will be here when needed.” 

 

She smiled at that, knowing that he could never give up that part of himself for anything. Some of her hated it, some of her admired it. Because she’d felt a good deal of satisfaction hearing that Rawlins was dead, and she’d felt a spike of irritation knowing that Russo, his supposed friend, was still breathing. 

 

“And in the meantime?” 

 

“Pete Castiglione is a construction worker with an apartment in Hell’s Kitchen.” 

 

She barely suppressed a giggle. “I refuse to call you Pete.”

 

He pushed up to kiss her quickly. “Just in public.” She chased after his lips and sighed happily when he rolled her to his side, head resting in the crook of his arm. He guided one thigh over his hip, slotting them together, and moaned into her kiss. 

 

“Want me to tell you the rest?” he asked, continuing to place sweet, loving pecks to her lips. Karen sighed and cuddled up against him, wanting to dig deeper into him.

 

“Later. Not now.” It was Frank’s turn to sigh. She felt it move through her hair, felt his fingers follow. “Tell me about Maria and the kids. Tell me good things.” 

 

She heard the smile in his voice. “What do you wanna know?” 

 

“What kind of shampoo did she use?” 

 

Frank laughed, enough that his belly shook. 

 

“I’ll have to think about that one.” 

 

“Did your son want to be a Marine like you?” 

 

“No, but Lisa did.” 

 

“Tell me about her. Please?”

 

“She liked blue. She wanted a puppy, but I didn’t think she was ready. She liked math. What kind of kid likes math? Couldn’t get her to read a damn book, but numbers were like breathing to that kid.” He kept talking, telling her anything and everything he could think of. Naturally, she had a lot of questions, especially about Maria. She was convinced that they would have gotten along, and that she would be happy someone was watching after Frank’s reckless ass. Because Karen knew. She knew that woman and those kids loved Frank more than anything in the world, and that they would be heartbroken to see him so lost and lonely. It would have devastated them to know how little he cared for his own life. 

 

Listening to him talk, memorizing the lines of his face, Karen silently promised all three of them, Maria, Lisa, and Frank Jr, that she would take care of Frank for them in their absence. She’d watch and fuss over him, nag him into doing better, being better, trying harder, until they could be together again. 

  
  



End file.
